Undisclosed Desires
by Yanrev
Summary: Sacrificing a life for a life is a burden that Hinata is willing to bear. Sometimes, however, the heavy costs of sacrifice infect other unsuspecting players on the stage known as life as well. This is a tale about the consequences of ignoring desires, forfeiting everything for unacknowledged love, and the reality that being a shinobi does not halt the harshness of being a teenager.
1. Prologue

Hi everyone, I'm going to go ahead and say a few things now: First, I do not own the Naruto universe nor any characters associated with it. I do however own any out of character creations and this particular story-line. Second, I will be attempting to make this story longer than ten chapters because I just can't imagine rushing through it so hopefully it's good enough to you all so you'll want to stick around. With all that out of the way, I hope you guys enjoy this first chapter and please feel free to review and tell me what you like or don't like!

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><p>The world had become nothing more than fragmented voices and dreary blurs to him, and he honestly wasn't so sure if he minded. He had been condemned to death as soon as he had stepped foot into Konoha, and was currently awaiting it in pure isolation. No sunlight, no constant companionship, nothing except the things his ears strained to catch and his eyes tried to make out. He was like a plague, contagious in a way that even scarce contact could prove untreatable, and they treated him as such –sliding his food and water in so swiftly that at times they toppled over and he had to lap it up like a mongrel in his chains. He was no longer a prisoner but a monstrosity, steps below the nefarious but otherwise revered kyūbi, and the Godaime made sure that it was instilled in his brain. Missing-nin were not welcomed in Konoha, especially ones that were once natives to the Leaf -especially ones that hit too close to the heart.<p>

He hadn't ever set out to make friends and admirers out of the faceless masses. He had always had his agenda, specific and singular despite the attempts of those around him. They were ever-changing but he was not, set like a pillar of stone, he was impenetrable no matter what had been set before him. He was not unfeeling, but grudgingly accepting that there was more to him than sarcasm only meant that the floods of anger and incompletion were only stronger. He flexed his fingers, wincing at the surging pain that engulfed his wrists, and wondered if the inflammation was due to some sort of infection. Would they have created some sort of complex chakra damning entities in his cell? He didn't entirely rule it out, but he now knew that he honestly didn't care if he died alone or in front of the entirety of the village –death would be the end result regardless. Carefully biting his tongue just to prove he still existed, he wasn't sure if he should be ashamed at his pathetic need of reassurance or if he should carelessly cluck at the fact that his arrogance had once more gotten him into a less than favorable scenario.

He had returned for truth, and in a way he had been granted it.

Slowly roused from his thoughts, he was suddenly very aware of the chakra levels before him, and barely within a moment for him to ponder, had a sudden rush of natural light all but cause him to recoil and hiss darkly like the savage they made him out to be. He was roughly snatched from the rusted hooks he had become intimately acquainted with and dragged carelessly by the tattered threads of the prisoner yukata they had so tastefully clothed him in as they burned his ruined garb, wincing as their crass treatment allowed his torso and beyond to heavily scrape against the tiled floor. Gravity was unkind to him as he felt the burst of pins and needles spread throughout the physique that he had no longer quite registered as his own. His arms had been strum up and angled, fixing his shoulders and torso into a bare kneel, and he had been left that way –having to eat, sleep, and relive himself all in the very same vicinity. He felt a deadly calm wash over him then, uncaring now that he was finally going to be put at ease–for there were no secrets and betrayals in death, only what he hoped to be a thoughtless, blank abyss.

He was then tossed forward like a ragdoll, his bones resounding loudly throughout the area as he slammed to the ground and skidded for a bit, the rug beneath rubbing a few scraps of bare skin raw and bleeding. Nevertheless, he remained still like a corpse, breathing so shallowly that he almost felt as if he would perhaps not allow them the sick satisfaction of taking his life. But soon his heart began to beat as normally as it could, and his inhaling, though raspy, was deep and constant. He faintly heard a delayed gasp and the sound of a rising form per rustling cloth, but he was far too gone to care about the present. He was losing himself, a web of unmarred darkness bleeding through the glimpses of color his vision had begun to pick up. Soon, everything was the color of a starless, moonless night, and he felt an extreme disconnect from his surroundings. There was no sight, no touch, no smell, but there was sound. Yes, slipping through the cracks he could not see, there were voices..

"You may speak now," Hard, unapologetic, feminine- that was the voice of the Godaime, "But do not concern yourself with such filth."

"Please, Tsunade-sama," Soft, airy, prestigious- that of which seemed barely familiar, like a lyric of a song heard only in a single passing, "release Uchiha-san into my care."

A snort. "Foolish child, I ca-"

"He is my betrothed, and I am here on his behalf to plead for his life."

There was a dark, stunning silence then.

"Hinata-chan-"

"Once more Tsunade-sama," Slowly drawn out, each syllabus well executed and thought out like that of a musical masterpiece, "as the heiress of the Hyūga, I, Hyūga Hinata am here on behalf of Uchiha Sasuke to plead for his life. If, and when, released into my custody his body will be handled according to clan rules."

"But-"

"Being betrothed to the heiress of the Hyūga dynasty means that his handling falls into our jurisdiction, an agreement that has been set into motion during the earliest of Konohagakure's beginnings. Hyūga matters are to be held and handled by the Hyūga Council unless it is suspected to fall under treason as is written by the hand of the Shodai Hokage, Senju Hashirama-sama."

"…I see. Tread carefully Hinata, I pray your resilience is as ample as your heart."

Curiosity roused the Uchiha into almost true consciousness, though his mind could not completely comprehend the meaning behind the words.

"His life is no longer of consequence to me then, dismissed."

And then, he was met with a disquieting quiet where even his subconscious was denied entry.


	2. o1

"How dare you!"

Her cheek throbbed so tremendously it was a wonder that her teeth were still intact and her jaw without fractures. Even the light touch of the pads of her fingers escalated the pain, and so she allowed her hand to drop to her lap uselessly as she sat upon her knees, fingers slowly clasping as if in prayer. She was no stranger to the show of physical domination, and this, like countless others before, would only be allowed to rattle her bones and not her spirit. She remained still, listening to the unspoken murmurs of shock, anger, and disgust that radiated off of the expressions of the council members shrouding her. Her eyes were unwavering, staring straight ahead at nothing with a raised chin and posture as elegant as a doll's. She had gone to the Godaime with the Hyūga as her leverage, yet she had returned to the Hyūga with an uninvited Uchiha in tow, and was immediately unhinged when the elders all met her at the gates. She was naïve to think that word would not almost instantly make it back to the Compound, and honestly she had not properly thought about the consequences that would most certainly befall her or how it would affect everyone around her –including Sasuke. Still, while the guilt chipped away at her, she knew when she had met the cold, unabashed fury of her father's gaze that she would have to do something she never thought she would be able to.

She would have to be strong.

"As the heiress to the Hyūga I upheld our tradition of handling matters within our-"

"You incorrigible girl! Silence!"

Taking a deep breath, Hinata slowly turned her gaze towards the offending elder, pearls boring through and thoroughly. "You were not granted permission to speak by Otousama or myself Kiri-san, and while I understand that this convocation is proving to be far more eventful than previous ones, I ask that you either refrain from further outbursts or take your leave." There was an immediate strain on all those in the room, tension spilling into the air as the council members digested such a bold, unabashed display from the normally timid, unremarkable Hinata. Eyes soon went from the young heiress to the current head that was standing above her, having ceased his obsessive pacing from the shock of yet another display of bluntness. Hyūga Hiashi was a man easily accustom to tradition, a man that formed habits and allowed change only when it was out of his capable hands, a man that made certain that said capable hands shaped and sculpted all else into his desired preferences. Always shy, and weak, and meek little Hinata. Always overlooked and forgotten, like an uninteresting miniscule detail that was unanimously irrelevant to the grander picture.

Yet within a few hours' time, she had traded her meekness for disobedience, her shyness for aggression. Certainly these things were not so extreme really, she was clearly nothing more than a naïve, emotional girl after all, but even the slightest deviation rubbed him raw. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized her in the silence. Her lips trembled slightly, her eyes were sightless, her knuckles taunt and white. Yes, this was a mere deviation, nothing that would last past a few more hours let alone today. Hinata was reliable in her inability to surpass docility, and had long ago accepted her place below the heels of the strong, courageous, and assertive. With his mind now completely at ease, Hiashi allowed his gaze to land slowly upon each set of eyes that were set upon his. "Hinata, you are dismissed until the Uchiha has awaken, but because you have dragged this mongrel into our home you are charged with its' complete care." He glance down at his eldest, making sure contact was to be had. "I will not accept hospitable treatment to be given by any respectable Hyūga or anyone outside of the Compound, and therefore will make sure you are its' sole caretaker. If you cannot abide by my words than the Uchiha's life will then be forfeited to the Godaime and Konoha."

He watched her steady breathing, catching the few hitches that she quickly tried to hide. Already she was breaking; he just needed to allow time itself to pressure the cracks he had made. "Is that understood?" She bowed her head in respect, surely in synch with the rest of the council members. "Yes, it is understood." He nodded slowly, "You are dismissed." Once more Hinata bowed, then quietly stood and turned on her heel, exiting and all but shaking from the anxiety of it all. She padded down the hall, willing herself not to run for the solace of her room, keeping her head up to fool herself into believing that she was braver than she felt. She was met with whispers and loud glares, and although her courtiers were perhaps only a few minutes from the council room, it felt like an eternity. She was under heavy scrutiny by her clan, and while no one had directly assaulted her with their opinions outside of her father, she could feel their emotions getting under her skin. Even as a child she had always been sensitive of those around her, and now that these emotions were directly aimed at her, she was overwhelmed. She was near tears when she finally reached her room, sliding the door open and quickly shutting it behind her as if something awful would slip in and swallow her whole otherwise.

She felt a small amount of peace loosen the weight of the chaos she was thrust into, but soon that peace was shattered as she realized that she wasn't the only occupant of the room. Haphazardly stretched from her bed to the floor was the ragged, broken body of Uchiha Sasuke. Covering her face in shock, she slowly approached him, struggling to keep the sudden ripeness radiating off of him from agitating her stomach. He was unconscious, and as she kneeled before him she also noticed that his pulse was nearly untraceable. She was overcome with sorrow as she gently lifted his head from the floor, wondering just how cruel humans could be especially to the weak and incapacitated, but as she struggled to lift the rest of him onto the bed, she remembered just who it was soiling her sheets.


	3. o2

The initial week that Uchiha Sasuke had been in Hyūga Hinata's care was one that the heiress would like to erase permanently from her memory. After setting the comatose male in her bed she had been far too embarrassed to try to bathe him and had opened her window and slept by the door to try to escape the stench. By the second day, however, complaints from other Main House members were passed along as she was preparing a light, liquid breakfast for the offending party. After using her body to prop him up so that she could carefully administer the lukewarm soup, and noticing that amongst the foulness of accumulated uncleanliness was a mixture of pus and untreated infections, Hinata accepted that bathing was imperative. Knowing that she was to be his sole caretaker, the heiress waited for slumber to claim the Compound on the third day, quietly struggling to drag one of the bathing tubs used for the elderly, bedridden members from the Branch House to her room. With her back aching, she then set about filling the tub with hot water, making multiple trips from the kitchen to her room with as little weight to her step as possible. Just the process of setting up the bath was daunting, and with sweat beading down the plastered locks of her bang to the paleness of her forehead, she stood before the unmoving form of Sasuke and nearly collapsed in defeat.

She closed the door behind her and hesitantly walked toward him, a light flush creeping onto her face as the task at hand became more graphic. She was to strip him of his clothes, stand him to his feet, and somehow place him in the tub where she would then proceed to wash him for as long as was necessary. Her blush deepened and she felt her hands tremble as they reached the folds of his yukata, suddenly unsure if she could handle such an intimate thing. She could surely ask for help, certainly it wasn't considered proper for a young, unmarried woman to see a man naked in any situation –they couldn't honestly expect her to bathe him. She squeaked as her fingers lightly grazed his collarbone, afraid that it would rouse him from his coma and cause her to face his suspicious stare. With her heart beating fast, she withdrew her hands and stumbled back, nearly colliding with the tub situated in the far corner of her room. She couldn't do this! She couldn't simply just undress Sasuke and bathe him! It was wrong, a violation of his rights as a person, a dire trespassing that she wasn't sure he would forgive. Yet as she watched him, she remembered the pus, remembered just how awful he looked –how vulnerable, and she swiftly felt foolish.

This man was suffering, dying perhaps, and she was concerned with things like social appropriateness? Blazing with shame, she once more returned to his side, fingers slowly but surely untying the obi and averting her eyes as she gently unclothed his body. She sniffed nervously, leaning forward and bending her knees as she slipped her arms beneath him. Dropping her shoulders, she readjusted so that his chin was on the crook of her neck, and with a silent countdown she grunted and pulled him to her with all of her might –rocking her feet back on her heels. A sharp pain found her hips, but she dulled it by shifting her weight to her knees, finding the proper lift and allowing her body to work with instead of against the gravity of Sasuke's weight. She carefully shuffled towards the tub, her body whining with every step, and when she finally reached it she was disheartened to realize she was unsure how to safely get him in without getting in with him. Panic and the edge of failure began to cloud her thoughts and burn the edge of her eyes, but her father's words echoed in her head loudly, and she knew that she could not afford weakness. No, Sasuke's life was not to be forfeited, that was nonnegotiable, unthinkable even.

And so, fully clothed in her pajamas, she stepped into the tub, heaving and dragging the deadweight of the missing nin along the way. She stood upon her toes for leverage, and twisted to grapple every inch that it afforded her. The entire process from bed to bath took her perhaps an hour and a half, and by then the water was nearly chilled and uncomfortable, but as her cheek brushed against the dry, caked one of Sasuke's she knew that it was well worth it. She began with his hair, working up a substantial lather before moving down and onward. She scrubbed where the flesh was firm with a brush but resorted to using her hands where she found bruises and raw wounds with infected scabs. The water was unimaginably disgusting, mysterious substances clinging to her as if the absorbency of her clothes and hair weren't enough, and she was beyond warm from the sheer embarrassment of touching a man so directly let alone bathing him so thoroughly. Yet somehow the slow, subtle breathing of Sasuke that tickled her ear made her feel a small sense of calm. Giddiness even, it was almost sweet to see Sasuke in such a rare state, and as she thought back on the few occurrences in which they crossed paths, she was certain that she had never seen him outside of either a brooding or gloomy countenance.

It had taken her another hour and a half before she could properly rest her weary bones, breathing deeply and inhaling the combined fragrances wafting from the bathed Sasuke's skin and that of her own. After drying the Uchiha and nearly dropping him from her returning embarrassment of his complete exposure and necessary closeness, she had swiftly emptied and cleaned the tub she had borrowed, opting to keep it in her room until otherwise. Once she was able to tend to him, she was overwhelmed by the staggeringly awful shape his body was in, her pale eyes slowly drawing over his wound riddled physique. His alabaster skin was greying, marred with abscesses and cysts that required immediate drainage and garish lacerations that looked suspiciously like the work of extreme flogging that had become infected. Upraised portions of flesh and purple bruising caused her to activate her kekkei genkai, to which she was astounded to see bones that had been broken and then left to heal without proper attention, ligaments and muscles that had been torn and ripped but healed improperly, and nerves and chakra channels that were misdirected and were slowly causing deterioration to form in some of his internal organs.

She was stunned, but quickly began to set about rerouting his chakra points and nerve ends and closing the nearly gaping holes that had formed in his right ventricle, small intestine, pancreas, and left lung-hoping to use the same techniques to right what had been wronged.


	4. o3

Sorry for the disappearance, but for your patience I posted two chapters which I hope will meet your standards! I appreciate the reviews and would like to encourage anyone reading to review. Let me know what you like, dislike, love, hate- it gives me insight, and it just makes me happy. ;)

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><p>The second week, Hinata had become both a ghost to the outside world and to the hallways of the Hyūga Compound, seldom finding a need to be completely away from the Uchiha's side for more than a few minutes at a time. She was constant in her perusal to undo all that had been done to Sasuke's body, silently shamed that a fellow med nin would use their practice so ruthlessly as each day she concentrated on different aspects of his state. She never seemed efficient enough, she was nowhere near Sakura-san or Godaime-sama's level of expertise, and every day she felt as if her inability to be either woman was going to cost Sasuke his life. She was unrelenting, her kekkei genkai always activated and searching, studying. Her hands always glowing furiously with chakra, so much so that she was finding herself more worn with every passing morning, tired and strained. She had been so naïve to think that she could simply prance into the Hokage's office and make a plea for his life to be spared, that there would be no other consequence to the Uchiha to have been held captive for three weeks other than containment. This suffering was part of his sentence, part of his punishment for defecting from Konoha, and Hinata hadn't had the slightest clue the degree of cruelty that had come with that price.<p>

A tear quietly slipped down her cheek but she was so focused upon the slumbering man below her that it was as if it didn't exist. Outside of her room, nothing was relevant unless it was a means to an end, the end being Sasuke's complete recovery. She not only wanted for him to awaken, she wanted him to be awakened and whole –a piece of perfection that was more than just a mirror of when he was at his physical peak. She coughed harshly, an excruciating pain threatening to consume her whole, yet her fingers did not waver nor did her chakra lose its consistency. She would preserve beyond her wildest dreams because not doing so would require her to seek help, and seeking help would therefore forfeit the very life she was trying to save. How could the Godaime be so cruel as to allow her the false sense of accomplishment that came with saving a life when that very life was barely holding on to its splintering last thread? How could Konoha be so heartless with one of her own, dangling death as a peaceful escape as life agonizingly dragged on with a newfound excruciating pain each hour? How did Uchiha-san endure three weeks of such brazen treatment? How did he find the will to live on despite it all?

As dawn gave way to dusk, Hinata felt the warmth of her chakra flicker like a dying flame and then extinguish, and soon enough she wheezed and doubled over. She struggled to bring her hands to cup her face, the trembling seeming to enter her bones as a bust of pain shot through her veins like wildfire. She would not scream, biting her lips so that she could focus, only faintly aware of the thin trickle of blood that was making its way to her chin. She would not be weak, would not forfeit Sasuke's life because she was not adequate enough –not skilled enough. If she could just tap into some sort of chakra reserve, just find a burst in her channels to help her get through this hurdle then she would rest. Kami-sama, she promised that she would rest until she became one with the futon. She inhaled deeply, trying to collect her thoughts over the screaming agony, trying to overcome like Sasuke had done during his unimaginable time as a prisoner in Konoha's grips. Darkness threatened to bleed into her sight, making her scoot closer to the Uchiha, making her lay her head upon the fleeting purple flesh on top of his heart. Her sight weaved in and out of focus as her body began to disconnect all of its senses one by one, but all that she was concerned about was the constant beating of the missing nin's heart.

The first day of this second week of tending to Sasuke, Hinata had first come across this terrible consequence of chakra exhaustion, but then it had been simply a slight fatigue and a little discomfort. As time went on, however, and she went further and further into uncharted territory it grew worse. Midweek she had collapsed from the shock of a swift, overwhelming pain, her body going into a slight seizure because of a system overload due to it being unaccustomed to this type of physical demand. Ironically enough, she slowly had been able to focus on a singular thing –Sasuke's heartbeat. Unknowingly her head had landed upon his chest, and during the mind blowing fire of hurt that had consumed her brain, she was able to numb out everything outside of the constant thump of his heart pumping. She was transfixed by it, and soon it became the staple to keep her from completely succumbing to the harsh consequences of her carelessness. Now, she allowed her lashes to flutter shut and the total feeling of being completely bodiless drag her down into the deep, endless black abyss that she had become familiar with. Still, she was unafraid as she heard the constant thump, like a steady drum that gave the darkness substance, made it vibrate and come alive around her.

Her last coherent thought was if Uchiha-san had ever become a regular to this same place.


End file.
